


Kun's Closet

by Heregoe5nothing



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Related, Canon-ish, Cozy time with Kunten, M/M, Mentioned WayV Ensemble, Mutual Pining, Pining, Podcasting au is that a thing, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25573612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heregoe5nothing/pseuds/Heregoe5nothing
Summary: Ten had a crush.He knew it was technically impossible to have a crush on someone you'd never had a two-way interaction with. But if you fall asleep to the sound of someone's voice enough times, Ten figured, they were bound to work their way into your subconscious.--Ten can't sleep unless he listens to Kun's podcast. What happens when it's the real thing?
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun
Comments: 66
Kudos: 295





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Help, I've fallen for KunTen & I don't wanna get up
> 
> I thought about creating a podcast for .3 seconds then realized I have nothing to say and wrote this instead. Let me know what you think!

Ten had a crush. 

He knew it was technically impossible to have a crush on someone you'd never had a two-way interaction with. But if you fall asleep to the sound of someone's voice enough times, Ten figured, they were bound to work their way into your subconscious. 

Ten was a bad sleeper. He'd always been. Ever since he hit puberty and the itch to become _someone_ had turned into a full-blown dream, his fantasies and fears had kept him up at night and restless when he finally did drift off. Imagining a future of fame and worrying that he couldn't pull it off was a dangerous combination that kept his heart rate stubbornly above resting until early morning each day. As a teenager, he tried everything, from transcendental meditation techniques to yoga to, eventually, sleep aids. By the time he was 18, doctors chalked it up to hormones and he had grown used to sleeping only a few hours every night. 

As he got older, Ten found little techniques that could help turn his brain off at night. He had taken a few drawing classes as a kid but never pursued art seriously and, as one of the few hobbies he hadn’t tried to make into a career, sketching was a great escape from reality. He struck up a nightly routine made up of a delicate balance of calming, nearly flavorless tea, time to doodle mindlessly on his iPad, and something equally brainless to listen to. Music didn't work, as his dancer's reflexes drove him to tapping his feet even as his sore muscles cried out at the slight movement. TV didn't work either. He had spent so many years learning different languages via the old shows he used to love that he practically knew them by heart, and it was as though he wasn't listening to anything at all. 

When his friend had first suggested he try listening to podcasts a few months ago, Ten was skeptical. How was hearing someone ramble on about the news or the weather going to help him stay _just_ distracted enough to turn his brain off without boring him into more wandering, anxiety-ridden daydreams?

Then he met Kun. 

Or rather, he found Kun's podcast, and instantly fell in love.

Kun had the most melodic speaking voice Ten had ever heard, deep baritones shifting into tenor whenever he got excited, which was multiple times every episode. 

"Hey everyone, welcome back to Kun's Closet!" the podcaster announced in well-practiced Korean. The title of the show never failed to pull a low chuckle out of Ten, even as he felt his breathing slow and mind fall calmer alongside the repetitive introduction that followed. 

"As most of you know by now, I'm _finally_ moving out of my parent's house at the end of the summer. As annoying as it was living with them all through college, I didn't realize how attached I've become to my life here until I decided to pack up and move to Seoul. So I'm going through my closet, trying not to be too sappy about a _lifetime's_ worth of useless crap, and bringing you all along for the ride."

That's it. That's the premise of the best work of art Ten had ever experienced. He spent 45 minutes a day, not including the time spent replaying episodes to fall asleep, listening to a man about his age _clean out his childhood bedroom_. 

And he loved it. Ten had moved around a lot, auditioning for any opportunity that would get him in front of a crowd and, once he started passing those auditions, traveling frequently to do so. He competed in a national talent show, joined his school's traveling dance team, and finally uprooted entirely and moved to Korea to train and become an idol- the only title he could earn that truly lined up with his dream. Where he had determination in abundance, he lacked nostalgia, and found the unique memory Kun associated with every item he pulled out of his closet pulled at a part of his personality he had long since forgotten.

In tonight's episode, Ten got to learn about one of the podcaster's more outlandish hobbies.

"This is my magic scarf," Kun said with reverence, and Ten imagined him turning the item softly around in his hands. He huffed lightly at the idea, and Kun's light laugh came through the speakers at the same time. "I know what you're thinking," he said, "but it's really magic! At least it feels like it is…" Kun trailed off, a habit he tended to do right before launching into the backstory of an item that carried with it a particular memory. 

"Believe it or not, this scarf got me my first kiss. That's right, folks, close-up magic _is_ sexy!" Ten chuckled in unison with the podcaster once again. "Honestly. Magic is amazing, and will always be one of my favorite things to do. But this story actually only happened because I was so bad at magic, and the wind got the best of me…" Ten listened contently as Kun explained with great enthusiasm how, if the breeze hadn't picked up and whisked his 'magic' scarf out of the sleeve of the oversized coat he was concealing it under, he never would've run into the other boy in the park who caught it seconds before the fabric touched the water of a fast running stream that would've whisked it away immediately. As an aspiring celebrity magician, Kun had emphasized, he couldn't let the tools for his success leave his sight for fear of revealing his magician's secrets. That rule, apparently, did not apply when it came to sharing the secret of how Kun and the other boy hid under the bridge they met on and talked for hours, kissing tentatively when they both admitted they had never done it before. 

"See?" Kun's voice had a definite tone of satisfaction in it now, "magicians are sexy."

Ten couldn't help but agree. 

After finishing the episode, he looked down at his iPad and was surprised to see he had drawn a single hand, fingers and wrist twisted in the fabric of an impossibly long and intricately patterned scarf. Ten smiled softly to himself before plugging the device in on his desk and crossing the room to his bed. He pulled up tonight's podcast again, restarting it and setting the volume low enough so Kun's timbre could just barely be heard over the sound of the softly whirring fan. The faint image of a scarf fluttering in the wind crossed his mind as he fell asleep. 

\--

The next morning Ten woke with a jolt, arm flailing to the side to pause where Kun's voice was still pouring softly out of his phone's speaker. When he looked at the screen, however, he noticed that he had in fact paused the podcast before he drifted off at last. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, Ten sat up. He swore he could still hear Kun's voice. Had he been dreaming about him? It wouldn't be the first time. He slid off the bed and lightly padded across the floor, checking his computer and iPad. Both were still plugged in, screens dark. He shook his head again to try and clear his head. Kun's voice seemed to be getting louder now… Ten was beginning to worry he would have to call his manager, or maybe an ambulance, when there was a soft knock at the door of his dorm. 

"Ten, are you up?" It was his manager, who knew how late Ten liked to sleep in on his days off. "You're new roommate's here." _Right._ He had been dreading this moment for years now, when the empty bed that had blessed him with a relatively quiet room would be assigned to some young, overly chipper trainee who would probably ask him all sorts of questions and talk too loud. Ten stifled a sigh, running his hand through his blonde bangs before he opened the door. At least the voice in his head had stopped. 

The first thing Ten noticed when he saw the man standing next to his manager in the doorway was his dimples. Not even fully smiling, the small dips in the stranger's face softened what otherwise was a sharp masculine jawline. This was definitely not a baby trainee. 

"Hey," the stranger spoke, and Ten froze, eyes pinned to the man's own dark chocolate gaze. "I'm excited to work with you."

Ten couldn't suppress the squeak that came out of him as he spoke. 

_"Kun?"_

\--

“Uh, yeah!” Kun’s slight smile broadened into a wider one as he held Ten’s astonished gaze. “They must have told you I was coming. I’m going to start training as an idol, and help with some of the audio mixing and side projects while I’m here.” When Ten didn’t respond, Kun pushed forward, “Gotta use that music production degree for something, right?” he forced out a soft chuckle and reached his hand up to scratch behind his head awkwardly. 

_Endearingly_ , Ten thought. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the man in front of him as he spoke. Why, oh, _why_ hadn’t he bothered to look up the face to match the voice he knew so well? Had he known Kun was so cute, he would’ve… well, he probably wouldn’t have done anything except stalk him on social media. It’s not like his schedule allowed for weekend getaways to China to find the man of his dreams. 

Dreamy was exactly the word Ten would use to describe the man in front of him. Kun had perfectly styled hair that somehow still looked like it would be soft to the touch. He wore a loose-fitting flannel hanging open over a black v-neck shirt and dark jeans that hugged his hips a respectable amount, although Ten found himself wishing they would be tighter. As he spoke, Ten realized that Kun had one of the most expressive mouths he had ever seen, lips framing each word as though it was precious before he shared it with the world. His dimples never faltered, only adding to the deliberate quality of each syllable that left his mouth. He was so entranced that he didn’t notice Kun had stopped speaking until his lips fell open to form a tiny circle, and Ten realized that both he and his manager were probably waiting for him to respond. 

Kun must have mistaken Ten’s silence for annoyance as he felt the other’s stare on his face, and dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry if it’s sudden,” he said, voice small, “but I just moved to Seoul and I’m really grateful that I won’t be living completely alone.”

Ten’s heart swelled impossibly larger as he listened to the tender note in Kun’s voice. It was the same tone he used when describing the stuffed animal his mom had given him at birth, or the sweater his grandmother knitted for him one year, the one that he still wore to every family holiday despite how itchy the fabric was. Ten knew how much love Kun had for the people in his life, and how hard it had to have been to leave them even as he was pursuing his own dreams. Tilting his head slightly, Ten shifted out of his thoughts and finally let his own smile break out across his still sleep-heavy face. He was rewarded by Kun’s returning hopeful grin. 

“Oh, of course!” Ten said, clearing his throat and gesturing for Kun to come inside, “I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now.”

He was lying, of course. But Kun didn’t need to know that yet.


	2. Chapter 2

Ten thought it would be hard to fall asleep after Kun moved in. Since he couldn’t exactly listen to his usual podcast with its creator  _ in the room with him,  _ he figured he would be back to the same place he was a few months prior, scrolling through ASMR videos on YouTube and downloading every meditation app available. Ten had resigned himself to laying awake at night once more, waiting for the feeling of sheer exhaustion to finally drag him under. 

He never got to that point. The first night Kun shared Ten’s room, it only took 20 minutes of idly sketching (images of brown eyes that he decided not to think too hard about) for his head to feel heavy and his eyelids to follow. 

The next night was the same way. He had honestly almost forgotten about Kun, practice weighing heavy on his limbs. As he dragged himself back into the dorm room, preparing for a night of anxious thoughts, Ten was caught off guard by the abrupt shift in the room's aura. Where he relied solely on the florescent lights overhead or the screen of his various devices to see, Kun had brought a small desk lamp and string lights that combined to cast the entire room in a soft dim glow. The window that Ten usually left open to let in fresh air (and whatever variety of city smells and pollution wanted to sneak in) was closed, and instead a small diffuser was sitting on Kun's half of the room, filling the space with scents of lavender and rosemary. When Ten turned to throw the small duffle bag he used for practice on his bed, he was surprised to find there were two extra pillows and a plush throw blanket tossed over his worn duvet. He turned to find Kun already standing up to face him, cheeks dusting with color. 

"Sorry if I crossed a line," Kun said quickly, eyeing the bed behind Ten as he spoke and avoiding his eyes. "My family went overboard trying to make sure I feel at home. I had a few extra pillows and blankets and wanted to make sure I spread the wealth." He huffed out a laugh before beginning to ramble, "I promise they're all brand new and freshly washed, I just took them out of the dryer-"

Ten had a very hard time paying attention to the words Kun was saying.  _ Kun _ was talking to him. His roommate. Kun. It still hadn't settled in his mind. Almost immediately after dropping his things off in the room yesterday, Kun had been whisked away again by another manager for more orientations, clothing fittings, and other mundane meetings Ten was glad he had gotten out of the way years ago. He hadn't seen the older boy until late in the evening, when he was halfway through sketching eyes the color of chocolate and pretending they didn't match the gaze that he was met with upon unlocking the door.

"I forgot my key," Kun had said sheepishly. Ten had been so flustered and sleepy that he did nothing but offer up a small smile, reaching over his desk to plug in his iPad then slipping into bed. He fell asleep to the sounds of Kun's idle humming as he began to unpack. 

But now he had to face the reality head on. His crush- his from-a-distance, entirely-one-sided, wasn't-supposed-to-know-he-existed crush- was right in front of him, and so far had been sweeter than he ever could have imagined. 

So much for not meeting your heroes. 

He felt a slight loss when Kun stopped talking and realized he was supposed to respond.

"Oh! Yes! Of course! I'm not going to say no to free things to cuddle with." It was Ten's turn to blush now, but Kun's blinding smile was worth it. "I love what you've done with the place, by the way."

Kun's grin grew impossibly wider with the compliment. 

"I'm so glad you like it. I feel like we're going to be here for a while, and I want to make good memories in this room. I'm a sucker for sentimentality."

_ I know,  _ Ten thought before he could stop himself. 

"It looks good," he opted to say instead. "Well, I'm going to try to get some rest. I usually have trouble falling asleep, so let me know if my rolling around gets annoying."

Kun's smile fell into a look of concern. "Oh no, that sounds horrible! Will it be distracting if I keep my computer monitor on a little longer? I'm really excited about this track one of the producers shared with me today." 

Ten almost choked on the cooing noise that threatened to leave his throat. It had been a long time since anyone showed any concern for his insomnia, and even longer since anyone was willing to change their routine to help him. It's not like Ten wasn't loved. Quite the opposite- he knew his family would move mountains for him if they had to and that they cared about his happiness deeply. However, they were all the way back home in Thailand and he had long-since stopped admitting to them when he was upset. A lot of the time, it felt like there was nothing they could do about it. But mostly he didn't want to burden anyone with the same issues he's been dealing with since he started secondary school. Now, on only his second night here, Kun had shown more of an interest in his health than his (mostly well-meaning) managers had since he moved to Seoul.

Ten raised his hands in front of him as he responded to Kun's concern, "No no, of course not. It's your room too, now."

Kun's smile returned and Ten spun around to change before he got sucked in even further by his new roommate's soft gaze. 

He lifted his old comforter and shuffled the new blanket underneath it so the faux-fur fabric brushed against the bare skin of his legs when he crawled into bed. The new pillows were significantly less flattened than his old ones, so he opted to switch those around too. Twisting around after plugging in his phone on the bedside table, Ten let out an almost embarrassing sigh of pleasure when he sunk into the new bedding and was grateful that Kun had gigantic noise-cancelling headphones on across the room. The combination of downy pillows and the added weight of the new blanket made him feel like he was snuggling down into a cozy nest instead of the same bed he'd slept in for the past five years. He felt warm, content, and comfortable. 

With his glasses off, he could just make out Kun's silhouette as he sat at his desktop, headphones distorting his outline slightly as he periodically nodded his head and hummed along to a song Ten couldn't hear. Ten took a deep inhale through his nose and let the scent of lavender wash over him, closing his eyes against the warm lamp on his roommate's desk. Once again, he fell asleep to the sound of Kun's voice. 

\--

And that night, Ten dreamt about him. 

“Hello everyone, and welcome back to Kun’s Closet!” The chipper tone was familiar to his subconscious. Now that he had a face to correspond with the name, however, Ten’s brain decided to animate the podcast, as though he was watching a live video feed of Kun gently sorting through heaping piles of old clothes and papers that he still couldn’t part with after all the years spent in the back of his closet. 

“I’m worried I took some of these for granted,” Kun said, face morphing into the warm gaze that Ten could now associate with the tone of nostalgia that he used for items he really treasured. He had recognized that expression more than once while his new roommate was unpacking, catching the sudden shift in energy when, instead of tossing it into the pile of identical-seeming shirts, Kun paused and lifted the faded one in his hands up in front of him. Ten hadn’t been able to make out the design, just a few spots of bleached discoloration (probably from acne medication, if the matching stains on Ten's old t-shirts were anything to go by) and a few holes that had worn their way into the hem of the top. But he recognized the pure love in Kun's eyes as he looked at the item, a look that reflected the positive memories he must have associated with it. Ten caught himself wishing he was in Kun's arms instead of that ratty old t-shirt.

His subconscious must not have cared. Because one minute, Ten's imagination gave him a front row seat to his favorite podcast, a dreamscape version of "Kun's Closet, Live!" The next minute, he was crushed into the corner of a tiny, dark space, with no obvious exit. He felt blinded and suffocated and frustrated that this is the turn his previously pleasant dream decided to take. Cautiously, Ten reached out to feel for his surroundings. Almost immediately, his hand came into contact with something soft and much closer than he had expected. Was he in a net? Ten felt around his other sides, and sure enough, there was more fabric all around his body. Trying not to panic, Ten inhaled through his nose. The dark corner smelled like dust. He took a tentative step forward, and bumped his head against something firm and metal. A pipe? Ten was in the middle of questioning where he had been shoved and why his subconscious hated him when he heard a voice. 

"Now, where are you…" The sound was muffled as it made it past the walls of fabric surrounding Ten's corner, but he could just make out the words the mystery voice was saying. He heard distant footsteps approaching as they continued.

"I know I tucked you away in here for safe keeping, and I don't want you to think I forgot about you." Just as they stopped speaking, there was a scraping sound, like someone dragging wood against a wall. Or like someone… opening a closet door. 

It was Kun. As he pulled open the door, Ten was met with light streaming behind his head, framing the other man's coifed hair and adding an angelic glow to his already sweet demeanor. He was eye level with Ten as he reached both hands up and brushed the fabric away from his shoulders. In the light, Ten could see they were sweaters, hanging around him on a clothing rack. He was in the closet.  _ That's ironic _ . Dream Ten couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. When Kun saw Ten giggle, his face lit up in response. 

"Cute," Kun said, the endearing tone returning to his voice as he tugged Ten's shoulders toward him. They were now standing face to face in the middle of the organized chaos of Kun's room, piles of clothes, old toys, and books placed meticulously in giant heaps full of meaning. Kun was still holding Ten by the shoulders. 

"You know I would never leave you behind, right?" He was staring into Ten's eyes again as he spoke, and Ten realized rather belatedly that Kun was talking about him and not another sweater on the clothing rack. 

"You're important to me." Kun said, eyes almost glowing as he held Ten in place. Hearing the other say that was everything he could've dreamed of- he was grateful he did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's me, queen of shortass chapters & unnecessary time skips 😅 I'm feeling cozy & kunten-y and thought y'all might like to join


	3. Chapter 3

When Ten walked into the kitchen the next morning with a smile on his face, it didn’t take long for his friends to notice something was up. 

“I know you’ve been finally getting some sleep recently,” Lucas said as he inhaled a bowl of Cheerios, “but you seem, like, weirdly awake today.”

“Yeah, Hyung,” Hendery piped up as he joined them at the table, “You’re practically  _ glowing _ .”

Ten rolled his eyes as he settled down next to them with his morning smoothie (the only palatable way to eat fruit, in his opinion). He did feel more rested than he had in… forever. He tried to trace back the reason. He knew that Kun’s podcast had been helping him tremendously before the man himself moved in with him. But then, shouldn’t his sleep quality have gotten worse when he wasn’t able to listen with Kun in the room? Ten took a second to really consider the change. For the first time in his life, he woke up rested instead of frustrated, despite the only change to his routine being that he  _ removed _ the very thing that used to help. Ten expected to suffer the consequences of relying on a very specific form of media to help him sleep. But the consequences never came. He thought back to the past few nights. He could remember feeling comfortable, relaxed, even safer than he had in years. Was it the change in ambiance? Or essential oils? No, Ten had tried all of those things back when his insomnia initially became cause for concern. He had also tried a various plethora of cooling pillows and weighted blankets that swore they recreated the feeling of being swaddled like a baby. Nothing had ever worked, so he went back to sleeping in his relatively bare room with minimal decoration. Ten knew it wasn't something magical about the glow of another desktop of the comfort of another person in the room, he had struggled to share a room with both Hendery and Xiaojun at different times when they stayed up late gaming. Ten hadn't even changed anything about his diet or unhealthy coffee addiction in the past few days. No, the only change to Ten's life had been… Kun. 

_ But he didn't even talk once I went to bed,  _ Ten ran through the other possibilities. Was it just his mere presence that made Ten feel comfortable enough to finally get a good night's sleep? This might be a problem. Before anyone could notice the turning gears in his head, Ten turned back toward the drink in front of him, slurping so loudly that Winwin smacked him upside the head as he entered the kitchen. 

\--

It was Friday, which meant Family Movie Night. At least, that's what Winwin called it when he sat everyone down one day after a particularly grueling promotional period almost a year ago and told the entire group that if they didn't take time off every once in a while, they were going to hurt themselves. No one was willing to disobey their gently intimidating friend, so they started this ritual to hold themselves accountable. Every week they huddled together on the old couches in the shared living space outside of the dorm's kitchen, played rock-paper-scissors to decide who got to pick the movie, and fought over blankets until they all settled down. The settling usually didn't happen until halfway through the movie, when in the comfort of entwined limbs and old blankets everyone drifted to sleep. 

Well, almost everyone. Ten never fell asleep during movie night. He couldn't. Something about the fear of missing out, combined with his run-of-the-mill insomnia, kept his eyes glued to the screen no matter how heavy his eyelids felt.

Which is why Ten didn't expect to wake up with his head on Kun's shoulder, glasses smushed against the bridge of his nose, as credits rolled across the screen in front of them. 

“Kun?” He mumbled in confusion, the name dragging past his dry lips. He barely registered the change, only realizing he had fallen asleep when Kun gently nudged him awake, poking his cheek playfully with his index finger. Blinking the grogginess out of his eyes, Ten struggled to focus on the face merely inches from his own. 

"I didn't want to wake you, but that angle doesn't look very comfortable," Kun responded back in a low voice. Ten glanced around them to see the rest of the group was still asleep. Lucas was snoring loudly and there was a dark spot of drool on the armrest under Yang Yang's head. So much for giving the new member of their "family" a warm welcome. They had let Kun pick out the movie in a gesture of goodwill then promptly fallen into the old routine of bickering over floor and couch space before falling asleep. Much to everyone else's dismay (and Ten's delight), Kun chose You've Got Mail. The nostalgic 90's rom-com had everyone else drifting off almost immediately, but Ten was immersed in the story, drawn in by the pride the lead actress took in her tiny local bookstore filled to the brim with stories and memories. He didn't let himself think too much about how her character's passion for items with a backstory reminded him of the adorable podcaster sitting only inches away from him on their lumpy couch. 

Kun spoke again in a soft tone so as to not wake the others. 

"I'm going to head off to bed. Are you gonna join?"

Ten was extremely proud of himself for not reading into that question. Instead, he nodded, feeling the stiff muscles in his neck groan in protest, and helped the other man disentangle their bodies from the dogpile around them. Kun grabbed the remote and turned off the TV, carried the giant bowl they used for popcorn back to the kitchen, then started to pad off toward their room. He stopped when he noticed Ten wasn't following. Instead, he was walking around to each of the members left snoring on the couch, gently shaking their shoulder or ruffling their hair before murmuring that they should get some real sleep. Once all of his brothers had shuffled in separate directions, blankets wrapped around their stumbling forms, Ten turned back toward his room only to see Kun watching him intently. 

"What?" Ten stage-whispered, trying to read his new roommate's expression. Kun’s gaze was soft but unwavering. Was Ten's hair sticking up from sleeping weird? Had he drooled on Kun in his sleep? The other man simply smiled a warm, open smile, one that Ten could now connect with the expression of unfettered care he usually reserved for 20-year-old t-shirts, before walking away from him and into their shared bedroom.

\--

Kun slipped into their little family quite smoothly, everyone taken with his cheesy jokes and the genuine sincerity with which he seemed to do everything. Kun had complimented Hendery’s purposefully-outlandish animal impressions one too many times for him not to have caught on that it was supposed to look ridiculous, but Ten noticed the way the younger man smiled to himself after he told Kun as much. He seamlessly navigated the weird dynamic they all shared, playing along when they teased Ten for being melodramatic but clearly enjoying more the moments when they all ganged up on Winwin to tell him how cute he was. Kun had more “life skills” than the rest of the group, having gone to college and been forced to fend for himself in a different way than everyone else, and his cooking and cleaning habits quickly earned him the reputation of being the dad of the family. He didn’t hide his occasional bouts of homesickness when one of the members found him sorting through a pile of old books that he had organized on the right shelf the first day he arrived, but everyone made it clear that Kun had found more family all the way in Seoul.

The roommates became closer as well. After the first night of accidental canoodling, it became common for the other group members to find Kun and Ten sitting on the couch watching tv, knees lightly touching or pinkies intertwined while they seemed not to notice. A joke (that Ten suspected had been started by Yangyang, although Xiaojun wasn’t above this level of pettiness) started spreading through the group that if you found Ten, Kun would always be right beside him. Once Ten heard Lucas loudly whispering to the others (because Lucas has a tendency to do  _ everything _ loudly) that the two eldest didn’t have to pretend to be so close just for the rest of the group’s benefit because they all “knew Mom & Dad loved each other without physical evidence.” Ten pretended he didn’t hear that one, but had another unexplained smile on his face for the rest of the day. Kun & Ten’s newfound habit of skinship really wasn’t just for show. It seemed to soothe both of their unique anxieties, Kun missing home less aggressively and Ten finding falling asleep easier by the day. Even when they were alone in their room, the two men gravitated toward one another, laying haphazardly on one of their beds while they played on their phones, ankles nudging against each other mindlessly. That’s what they were doing on this particular night, stretched across the mountain of pillows and new blankets on Ten’s now-overflowing bed.

“Hey, can I play some music?” Kun gestured to where Ten’s laptop was sitting open on the desk next to his end of the bed. He nodded, barely glancing up from where he was tracing abstract shapes on his iPad. Ten did look up, however, when Kun reached for the computer from where he lay opposite Ten. As he twisted around to reach the table, the sinewy muscles of his arms and shoulders strained with the awkward angle. 

“Just get up, lazy.” Ten nudged him with his foot, trying without success to keep his imagination in check at the feel of Kun’s taught thigh under his heel. Huffing, Kun dragged himself up to a sitting position before pulling the computer into his lap. The screen had gone dark, so he turned the laptop toward Ten and held it out to him with an expectant look. Was he pouting? It was Ten’s turn to huff as he looked at the keyboard, still very far out of his reach. 

“Bring it here,” he said teasingly but regretted his words the instant Kun crawled toward him on the bed, shuffling forward on his knees while he balanced the computer in his hands. He regretted it even more when Kun came close enough that he was straddling Ten’s reclining form, sitting back on his heels (and inevitably Ten’s thighs) to finally get the laptop unlocked. Ten had to look away as he reached his hand out, pressing his fingerprint to the scanner and watching the screen glow once more. He watched as Kun turned the computer back toward his face and tried in vain not to admire the sharp line of his jaw as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. Ten saw his features shift into slight concentration as he focused on navigating to Ten’s music app, his eyes dancing gracefully across the screen with the confidence of someone who used a laptop like it was an extension of his own body. Kun could make anything look beautiful. But maybe Ten was biased. He let his mind wander as he continued to watch the face of the man still sitting on his thighs, seemingly unconcerned with the fact he was straddling his roommate in his own bed. Ten thought he felt Kun’s legs tighten almost imperceptibly around him. But he could have been imagining things. What he didn’t imagine, however, was the look of pure confusion on Kun’s face when he abruptly looked up from the laptop screen and pinned Ten with a look he had yet to learn the meaning behind.

“Wait, you listen to my podcast?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello it's below freezing here for the first time all year and I am not prepared where is Kun to gift me a heated blanket without preamble


	4. Chapter 4

Kun had a crush. 

He had known  _ about _ Ten before he moved to Seoul and joined the group, obviously. The idol was famous in every country he had ever visited and popped up on billboards and magazines around the world. Ten was the pinnacle of grace, beauty, and had a smile that made everyone who saw it smile in return, even when only watching him through a screen. All throughout college, Kun had known the idol from afar, admiring his lithe frame and unique on-camera personality. He had indulged himself more than was probably appropriate as he got older, watching hours of footage of the other man under the guise of learning more about the group he was preparing to join. He thought he knew everything about the idol, But it wasn't until Kun actually met Ten that he realized what made him so special.

Ten wasn’t just a pretty face who played a character for an audience. His passion for performing ran so deep that it was evident in every facet of his life, from the way he stayed later than everyone else in the practice rooms to the fondness with which he took care of the other members of his little found family. Kun knew that if he told him how much the others looked up to him, Ten wouldn’t believe it. But in the short time he had been a part of the group Kun had already picked up on the little actions Ten did every day that solidified his role as the backbone. Ten woke up before the others, rubbing his eyes groggily as he entered the kitchen but never failing to turn on the coffee maker, lay out enough plates for everyone, and check that the rice cooker was warm. He was quick to make a joke at others’ expense but also seemed to be the one all of the younger members sought out for advice. His extra experience training and performing meant that he knew more about their world than anyone else, and he could help soothe even the most anxiety-ridden pop star with a few wise words and cuddles. 

Ten was kind, witty, and surprisingly shy for someone as famous as he was. And Kun was an idiot. A blubbering, embarrassing, idiot. He had a crush on Ten. There was no ignoring it now. What Kun had dismissed as admiration had quickly amped all the way to full-blown attraction the first time he laid eyes on his new roommate. When he saw the name of his silly little podcast on Ten’s listening history, he was so caught off guard by the notion of Ten also knowing about  _ him _ before they met that he couldn’t think straight. Instead of laughing it off and changing the subject, he had frozen in place, realizing too late that he was straddling the other man. It would have been comical to watch Kun tumble off the bed and dash out of the room if it hadn’t felt so pathetic. Kun had just wanted to escape, but didn’t really have a destination in mind.

Now, as he sat in the silent kitchen, he felt ashamed. It was so obvious that Ten had just done his homework and came across Kun’s podcast. Who doesn’t google their roommates before they meet them? Kun didn’t have pages of fan sites and interviews to sort through online, it would be simple to connect him back to Kun’s Closet. What a stupid name. What a stupid idea. Kun was so stupid. How could Kun think that Ten would care about him at all? Ten was talented, creative, the most graceful person Kun had ever laid eyes on, and more sure of himself than he would ever be. He couldn’t believe he had actually let himself think that  _ Ten _ would ever see him as anything more than his goofy roommate with an obsession with cozy things and potential attachment issues. 

Winwin found Kun stewing in his dark thoughts, staring idly at the rapidly cooling full mug of tea in front of him. He didn’t bother with small talk. 

“What’s wrong?” Kun lifted his head to meet his new friend’s questioning gaze across the table. He shook his head slowly, trying to plaster a relaxed smile on his face. Kun has never been good at hiding his emotions. 

“Kun-ge, talk to me.” So he did. Kun told Winwin the whole story, from his obsession with Ten from afar (His quick claim of, “I watched all of you! I wanted to learn as much about the group as possible!” earned a knowing eye-roll) to his creation of the podcast as a way to deal with moving out of his family home. 

“I had, like, two followers,” Kun explained, “It was meant more as an archive for me to remember the people and things I was leaving. I never thought anyone actually listened.” That was the truth. Kun recounted fondly the one time he saw an anonymous comment on his first recording. Something innocuous, a stranger with insomnia who said his podcasts were the best trick to help him fall asleep. He figured it was a troll. Kun’s podcast was pretty boring. When he told Winwin as much, the other man sighed loudly. Pushing back from his seat at the table, Winwin went to the tea pot and poured them both new cups. He replaced the now lukewarm mug in front of Kun with a steaming one before he spoke. 

“How much of Ten’s listening history did you see?” Not much, Kun thought. He had recognized the goofy door emoji he used instead of a logo when it popped up on Ten’s ‘recently played’ screen, and had stopped there, assuming the younger had pulled it up to tease him. As soon as Kun recognized what Ten was doing and the compromising position he was still seated in, he bolted away from the situation. The warmth in his cheeks gave Winwin the answer he was looking for. 

“Look, he would kill me for telling you this,” Winwin’s voice was exasperated as he spoke, “But you’re both so helpless I have to say something.” He glanced up to make sure he had Kun’s attention. The other man couldn’t look away. 

“Ten’s  _ obsessed _ with you, Kun,” Winwin stated, the phrase carrying more weight when said in his characteristically matter-of-fact tone. “He listens to that podcast every night. At least, he did before you got here. He used to tell me about it all the time. ‘ _ Kun’s voice is so soothing, Winwinnie, you should really hear how sweet he sounds talking about old clothes _ .’ It was kind of annoying, honestly. But I’m pretty sure he liked you before he had any idea who you even were. Then when you showed up, he suddenly stopped raving about his favorite voice on the internet and started touching you at every opportunity. It wasn’t hard to put the two together.”

Kun was frozen again, steam from his mug curling in front of his unmoving face. Ten had actually enjoyed his rambling about sentimentality? Kun figured he would only make fun of him for being a sap. But if his podcast had actually helped the other man get some sleep… Kun remembered Ten’s comment the first night they talked. He told Kun he had insomnia, but since then Kun had seen him drift off at a reasonable time every night while he watched from his perch in front of his sound mixing software. He heard the comments the other members threw at Ten since Kun had moved in, making jokes about how much more rested he looked after his new roommate started living there. Kun had dismissed the comments then. But now, what excuses could he hide behind?

\--

Kun walked back into their shared room, still shaken from Winwin’s words. But he had promised to follow his friend’s instructions (“Just go  _ talk _ to him”) and was nothing if not a man of his word. He pushed the door open softly, part of him hoping Ten was already asleep. Instead, he found his roommate pacing back and forth in front of his bed, the covers still askew from Kun’s hasty exit earlier. Kun had never seen the other so imperfect. Ten was always put together, even when he wore slouchy rehearsal clothes or layered a thick robe on top of his pajamas on the way to their weekly movie nights. Now his hair stood at an odd angle from where Ten ran his fingers through it and his house slippers made a small scuffing noise with every other step. When he noticed Kun, Ten stopped in his tracks. Then words tumbled out of his mouth as he stepped cautiously toward the other. 

“Kun, I’m so sorry. You weren’t supposed to see that. I know it probably made you really uncomfortable, and I want you to feel like you belong here. We can just pretend it didn’t happen, don’t worry about-” Ten’s frantic apology was cut off by arms wrapping firmly around his middle, stopping him in his tracks. Kun breathed into his hair, grounded by the now familiar smell of Ten’s peony scented deep conditioner. He pushed back and looked into the other’s now rounded eyes, trying to keep his heart from beating out of his chest. 

“Can I show you something I brought with me to Seoul? It’s really meaningful to me.” Kun’s voice sounded a lot more confident than he felt. Ten nodded wordlessly, so Kun let his arms fall and walked toward the closet he had only finished organizing a week ago. He reached into the farthest back corner, the part of the closet he knew Ten would never find by mistake, and pulled out a small box. Kun walked over and set the box on Ten’s unmade bed. He gestured for the man to open it while he stepped back, then started talking in an attempt to hide his anxiety. In the best impersonation of his podcast he could muster, Kun started to explain what he was showing Ten. 

“I’ve wanted to make music for a long time. Even before going to school for production, I used to write my own songs and film cheesy music videos for them with my dad. It was silly, but I’m really lucky that he was willing to help me explore my passions.” As he spoke, Ten pulled the first few items from the box. An old video camera and a CD with the words “Kun’s first album” scribbled across it in blue sharpie. Kun took a deep breath and forced himself to continue.

“I started following all of the artists I wanted to write music for one day. My parents took me to my first concert.” Ten lifted a faded photo from the box. Kun knew exactly what the picture looked like, since it hung in his bedroom until only a month ago. Kun was barely fifteen in the photo, braces visible against his wide smile, long bangs falling in his eyes. He stood inside a massive arena, the stage behind him lit up by an LED screen with the artist’s name in block letters: JAY CHOU. Ten chuckled at the version of Kun that was still going through puberty and lifted more memorabilia from that concert out of the box, a long ticket and lanyard. Kun smiled as he saw Ten’s face relax a bit more. 

“The last items in that box are a bit more personal,” Kun admitted, his gaze pinned to where Ten’s fingers were gingerly unfolding a small poster near the bottom of the box. He saw Ten blink in surprise when he saw who was on the front. 

“When they heard that I would start training with the group, my family insisted we go to a concert,” It was Kun’s turn to chuckle lightly as Ten stared at the image of him and their dorm mates on the poster in his hands. “Little did they know,” Kun carried on, voice a lot quieter now, “That I had been obsessed with you for years already.” Ten’s head shot up at the words. Kun cleared his throat a little. 

“Can you look at the last photo?” Ten dragged his eyes back to the box, nails scraping lightly against the bottom as he lifted out the last item. It was another photo of Kun at a concert, but this time he didn’t have a wide smile plastered across his face. This version of Kun was older, probably only a few months younger than he was now. His hair was styled to be swept out of his face and he wore a close fitting black shirt under a more structured grey jacket. Instead of looking at the camera, Kun was focused on the stage, or more specifically, the person on it. Ten recognized the costume he wore for his own solo performance but could only focus on the look in Kun’s eyes. He knew that look now. That was the look that coincided with Ten’s favorite podcast episodes, where he talked for over an hour about one item that connected to a very specific memory. That look was reserved for the things Kun cared about most. That was the look Kun used to linger on a photo album before he put it on the shelf, the look that took over his face when his parents called him on facetime. And when he looked up from the photo, Ten realized, it was the look Kun was giving him right now. 

“I’ve always idolized you, Ten,” Kun admitted, voice barely a murmur now. “But now that I know you, the real you, I realized that it’s more than that. Ten, I think I li-” It was Kun’s turn to be cut off now, as Ten strode across the room with a purpose to place one hand on his shoulder and tug Kun toward him. He used his other hand to cup the side of his face, thumb tracing over one of his dimples. 

“I like you so much, Kun,” Ten breathed as he held his face inches from Kun’s. “Can I kiss you?” Kun barely had time to nod before Ten’s lips were on his, warm and seeking. Kun snaked his hands around Ten again, wrapping one arm around his waist as the other reached up to his soft hair. They lost their balance and stumbled together until Kun’s back pressed again something solid. He broke apart to catch his breath and realized he was leaning against the closet doors, their combined weight causing the thin wood to creak behind them. Ten chuckled low as he kissed down Kun’s jaw. 

“I never thought I’d be so excited to be in the closet again, Kunnie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write the last chapter from Kun's perspective and as I did it I realized that this entire fic is just me fulfilling my Yuri on Ice agenda: Famous Boy Loved Regular Guy First till I die apparently 💕 I hope y'all enjoyed reading, as always thanks for sticking with me even though I'm the slowest updater in the universe!


End file.
